Tara's Story
by nicole ashlie
Summary: Tara's life growing up. Watching her mother's murder, living with physical and verbal abuse, and finding her Willow tree that helped her escape all of it. Definate WT relationship. I do not own any of these characters except for Angelina. Thank you all.
1. Tara Baby

"You're it, Donny." six year old Tara Maclay said, tapping her ten year old brother's shoulder playfully.

"Don't touch me, you freak!" He yelled, pushing onto the ground.

"B-But Donny, I thought we were playing tag?"

"I said only if you don't touch me!" He spat.

"You're an icky demon. Yuck."

"No I'm not! I am not a demon." Tara yelled back.

"Yuh huh. Daddy told me so, Tara. You are. And don't try any crap on me, either. I know what your kind can do." Donny said, backing away quickly.

"But we have the s-same momma and daddy." Tara said, confused. "Are you a d-demon t-too?"

"No way! Just you!" He said, disgusted at the fact that she touched his flesh, almost as if she carried a deadly disease on her fingertips. He walked away from her and out of her sight.Tara stood at the base of the staircase, looking down at her small, delicate hands.

"But I can't be a bad girl. I d-didn't do nothing."

"Tara baby, come here a second." Tara loved the sound of her mother's voice. Like an angel sent down from Heaven.

"Momma?" Tara asked, coming closer to her parent's bedroom.

"Come in here. You wanna see magic?" Tara's mother, Angelina, spoke softly. Tara walked into the bedroom and sat down next to her mother, who placed white pillar candles all around the room. A book was open in front of her but young Tara couldn't make out the words. Watch the candles, my baby. Watch the magic happen. Her momma whispered. Within seconds, all of the candles were floating high, and Tara thought that they were going to burn a hole in the ceiling. "Don't be frightened, Tara. Its good magic." Her momma said, taking Tara hand into her own. She stroked the palm of her hand as if she were searching for something.

"Momma, am I bad?" Tara asked her mother, staring deep into Angelina's bright blue crystal eyes. At that question, her eyes saddened and lost their light for a moment.

"No Tara. You mustn't ever believe that. You and I, we have power that scares people, but I promise you it is all good." She caressed her daughter's fine blonde locks. "And someday, Tara baby, you will use it to help people in need. I just know it."

"But I have no power Momma. I don't make things happen like you do." Tara said, looking at the pillar candles still amidst the air. "You will. You'll know when you have it. You'll know how to use it. You'll know who needs it." Angelina nodded in confidence. Tara liked that answer. She nodded her head towards her mother. Both Tara and her mother jumped when they heard the door open abruptly. It was her father.

"Angie! I thought I warned you about that, that magic!" Her father screamed, rage-stricken, walking towards the two. Tara backed off and hid in a corner of the room, fearful of her father. She knew what daddy does to Momma.

"John, please, no! I was just, just showing her a little fun is all. I wasn't teaching her, I swear!" Angelina said, backing up, but not as swift as Tara had done.

"I have warned you before, Angelina. I have warned you before and still you do not listen! Oh, you will listen now."

Tara tucked herself deeper into the corner, as if she thought that if she pressed hard enough she could push herself clear out of the room itself. If only she could do magic. Then shed get away for sure.She watched, frightened, as her father hit her mother over and over again. Getting to the point where she would bleed excessively. If only I had the power, Tara would repeat in her head.After a while, John Maclay left the room silently, not acknowledging the fact that Tara was in the room. That Tara had seen it, again. Angelina inched her way over to Tara, wincing in pain as she tried to hide it with a smile.

"Momma's okay, Tara baby. Don't fret. Momma's not going anywhere."Angelina held her only daughter, her Tara baby. She held her tight and cried so soft that Tara had to put her ear to her Mommas chest to hear it. Momma was crying inside of her. Inside of her chest, she was crying.


	2. Eleven Years Later

**ELEVEN YEARS LATER**

Momma died last week. Momma went to Heaven with Jesus. But Daddy's not going to Heaven. My Daddy is going to hell. My Daddy killed my Momma. He closed her eyes forever.I can still remember that night. He beat her until her eyes closed. I didn't see the whole thing. Not with my eyes anyway. I heard her cries from outside the bedroom. Muffled cries, loud cries, painful, endless cries!

He locked the door and I couldn't get in. I can still hear them, haunting me. But it isn't her voice that is haunting me. It is the fact that he made her do that. That is what haunts me. Will I remember forever? Will it haunt me forever? I slide a sharp, cold metal blade across the palm of my hand. I barely press down at all. Blood starts appearing along a thin, almost invisible line of split skin. It hurt. But at the same time, it felt good. I thought that if I really concentrated, I could hear the blood sing as it trickled along the crevices of my palm. Did Mommas blood sing? Did it sing as it danced along her face, her legs, her arms? Could she feel me kiss the palm of her bloody hand when I finally got that damned door open that night? That night last week. I should tell someone, the police.

"I'm too scared."

I'm seventeen and I'm going to college next spring. I wanna go far away. Far away from Dad. Far away from Donny. My Dads niece, Bethany. But mostly just the memories left here. The stain this place has. I'm afraid that if I stay for too much longer, I will stain too. Donny is never home, and when he is he is sleeping or partying with his friends. I'm not allowed out of the house. My family says that I'm evil; a demon. I believe it now. There are such things. My Dad is one. So, maybe it's hereditary. Passed on through mutated genes.

After Mommas murder, I took all of her books Daddy had thrown into the garbage. I kept them hidden between the tare in my mattress. If Dad found them he'd kill me too. Is he afraid of me like I'm afraid of him? I've been trying every day that she's been gone to do that spell she was doing the day she died. She couldn't do it, yet she kept trying, kept working at it. She never got to complete it. I've taken that up as a must do. I concentrate, focusing on the power I have. Momma was trying to make a spell that would serve as a guide for one another so we would never lose our way to each other. Like a tracking device. I thought for a split second, that maybe, just maybe, it might lead me to her. It might bring me to my Momma.


	3. Spring

**SPRING**

It's been thirteen months since Momma passed on. I bet you're wondering if anything got better over time. Not a single thing.

Living with Dad and Donny wasn't easy at all. My father would give me lectures about how dating is a sin and no one would ever want to date me anyway because I'm a disguising, filthy demon. Oh how I've heard that my whole life. Except when Momma was alive, she would try to keep me sheltered from my father's words. Now no one is here to protect me. And Donny, he's gone completely off his rocker. When Dad's not beating me mentally Donny's beating me physically. If I don't do as he says I get hit. He's always saying "I love you, you know that, but this is the only way to get you under control." or "It's for your own good. If you'd just listen in the first place, Tara."

I couldn't even count how many times I contemplated suicide. But if I did, I wouldn't ever see Momma again and I can't live with that. So finally I have a shot at life. College at U.C. Sunnydale. Freedom. I pack my bags ahead of time. Not that I have many things. I bring all of my witchcraft books and spell ingredients. And my blade. Dad tried to refuse to let me go but I ended up winning the conversation, how I will never know. Donny drives me all the way up to Sunnydale. I wish we had flown instead. Alabama is a long ride. It was fairly silent though. I sat in the back seat just in case he got angry with me. When we finally arrived, I was so relieved. Birds were singing, people laughing, the sun shining down as if only to dissolve my sadness. It felt good. As if for a moment, just a moment, Momma was looking down at me and the sun was her face. I looked up and smiled at her.

A second later Donny honked the horn and yelled "Well, what you looking at the damned sky for? You think you gonna find God up there or sunthin?"

I turned to him and blinked my eyes, keeping them closed for a just long enough to take everything in, and then I turned toward campus and walked. I didn't look back. Not once.

Slowly, walking into what felt like forbidden territory, I was afraid again. What if they find out? What I am. Demon. What would they do? I kept my eyes fixed on the floor as I walked. Room 12. I made it this far, no giving up yet. I opened the door to see no one there. A black room with one bed, one dresser, and one nightstand.

"Guess I have my own dorm." I muttered to myself. I dropped the duffle bag onto the floor and sat on the bed. "Just little old me."

I gave a slight smile to the dark room. It didn't smile back. I signed up for Wicca Group hoping to find others like me out there. Just making one friend is an improvement for me. And I did. Willow Rosenberg. Sitting in a chair unlike me who was seated on the floor between two other members. I didn't catch their names though. Too busy with the red-head. She wasn't like other girls at all. She was so, so flawless. She would send me a glance or two throughout the class. Every time she did I would quiver. No surprise there. I'm a lesbian. What a surprise, huh? Not.

Then I met her. I mean really met her. We were running from these things. Demons that looked worse than me. Even though they aren't trailing too far behind in that department. But Willow, she was an amazing witch. Our power was more than I had ever felt before. That night, after the demons were killed, I went back to my dorm and inhaled deeply. Wow. That's all that came out afterwards. I was so high on magic. Or was it love? I went back the next morning, to wear I usually see her sitting downstairs. I walked up to her and she looked up warmly and smiled with a smile as bright as my mothers used to be. Oh did I miss that smile.

We talked for a while that day. And the next. And the day after that. Eventually we became closer than friends and closer than best friends. I never told her she was my lover, but she never said anything to me either. It was unspoken and unnecessary. It was love.Then Oz, her other love, came into town. It felt like the blade I kept hidden in my top drawer had come out of hiding and stabbed me over a thousand times all over my body. I felt sick in my stomach, sick in my head, and most of all, sick in my heart. This was, until she came to my door that night. I didn't know who would be knocking on my door at almost midnight. Anyway, I opened it and to my surprise it was Willow. She had a candle and that look on her face that told me she knew what she was doing. I figured she would pick him over me, but she didn't. She made love to me that night. For the first time. And for that night and that morning, I felt pure and whole. And I knew I was happier than I had ever been. Ever.

I knew the saying all good things have to come to an end. It was true. My twentieth birthday is tomorrow. And it seemed like it took forever to come. My brother Donny, my Dad, and my cousin Beth (who is a spitting image of my Dad) came to the Magic box today. I was so sad. I had been happy now for almost a full year and now it was worth nothing? I was right. My father came to bring me back. Back to that stain.

But-oh, Willow. I don't want to leave her. I was going to do whatever I could to stay. I cast a spell on the scoobies to make sure they wouldn't see my demon half. Whatever I am. Then, it all went downhill from there. It appeared that cast the spell entirely wrong in fact. Just as my father walked in. He told my friends about me and I couldn't breath. With his power, he stepped on my windpipe and laughed while he slowly killed me. That wasn't reality of course, because in reality it might have been less enjoyable for him. I fall for it every time. Every single time. But it's such an unbearable feeling! Oh make him stop it! Stop it stop it! Daddy stop it! I was screaming now.

"Tara! Baby, wake up, everything is okay." It was Willow.

I jumped up in bed. I was having a flashback. It was over. I turned to look at my girlfriend lying next to me. Tears ran down my face and splashed onto her. She took me into her arms and laid my head against her chest.

"Shhh. Tara its okay now. You are safe. She whispered in my ear."

I am now. I thought to myself. What happened tonight, my birthday night, was scary. But now everything was okay because I have my Willow tree branching out above me and the rain can never fall upon me again. Not ever.

The next morning as soon as I woke up, I took my blade that I still had hidden in my top drawer of my dresser, and mailed it anonymously to the people I once called my family. They will never cause me pain again. **NOT EVER**.


End file.
